The Ranch

Cory was careful to take slow breaths. If he got his heart-rate up, the bleeding would be worse. Greg hadn't hurt him too seriously, it was all for show. Cory figured this out after the second cut - Greg was saving the big guns for until after he had served his purpose. Greg was carving a pattern of X's along Cory's chest, similar to the criss-crossed scars on his own, but perhaps a little deeper. The first cross was bearable, but each consequent slice hurt significantly as it passed over the previous.

Cory was fully clothed, except his brown shirt had been ripped open for the cutting. Unlike Katie, who had been carried, Cory was a little battered after being roughly dragged along uneven ground. His clothes were covered in patches of damp dirt and traces of leaf and twig. Greg had retreated into the dark to get something, and approached Cory carrying a medium-sized black sack.

"So, Cory," Greg began conversationally, setting the bag down and sitting next to him on the bed, "did you like listening to our little romp next door? Hmm?" Without warning, he ripped the gaffer tape from Cory's mouth.

"No," Cory replied, keeping a lid on his rage, knowing Greg would enjoy his reaction. "You're going to pay for that."

Greg tipped his lead back with genuine mirth. "Wow. You are something else." Evidently in a good mood, his blond hair curled across his forehead as he looked down at Cory's blood on his hands. "So what's the deal with her, anyway?" he jerked his head in Katie's direction. Both men could hear her softly crying on the other side of the curtain. "You think you're in love, or something?"

"You're going to get caught, you know," Cory ignored his question, glaring at him. "Your luck will run out. It's inevitable."

"Oh," Greg said thoughtfully, unconcerned. "I guess it goes to show how little you know about me." He lifted his head to the curtain. "Katie, honey," he called, "how much have you told these guys?"

"Nothing," they heard her mumble.

"Well, I'll determine if you're lying about that in a moment," he replied sweetly, his tone contrasting with the threat. He turned back to Cory.

"So, here's the thing," he explained. "I'm not really a cop." Noting Cory's surprise, he smiled. "Well, I am a cop. I mean, I have the gig, but I'm not trained or anything. My whole career and qualifications are fake. Aside from some monkey training, all that's legit is my recommendation - Dom's dad. George is the real deal, retired big-wig with medals and all. He was at the top of the tree, so he can hand out the apples. Thought it'd be easier to make me part of the law since I spend so much time breaking it on his behalf. Being a cop comes in handy when I need to get information or cover shit up, but my passion lies with the background work. You know, debt collection, interrogation, disposal.

The same goes for Dom, he's as of much a cop as Jesus was a Nazi. But he doesn't do any work for his dad. He just enjoys the power that comes with his position. Sure came in handy when he saw her." Again his eyes flicked to the orange curtain.

"What are you spilling your guts for?" Cory growled. "You're going to kill me anyway."

"Well, where would my manners be if I didn't spill mine before I spill yours?" Greg smiled.

"So, do you make a habit of incriminating yourself?" asked Cory, genuinely curious. "I thought you'd be smarter than that."

"Ah," Greg smirked, "I only share with people living on borrowed time. Katie's the only exception to that policy. No one has survived to share my secrets. Actually," he frowned, straining his memory, "there was this one guy who really surprised me. Managed to sever his own leg while I was taking a shit, can you believe it? Fucker bled out before I could get the information I needed."

Katie listened intently from the other side, discovering things that she had no idea about. She knew Dom and Greg weren't afraid of the law they supposedly upheld, but she didn't know it ran to the extent of numerous bloody murders. She thought fate had thrown them together as a nightmare duo, that Greg met George through Dom, not the other way around.

"You'll get caught," Cory repeated. "Mark would have reported us missing by now." Looking into his fierce eyes, Greg recognised that Cory wasn't just talking for show, trying to persuade him to back down. Cory really believed what he was saying.

"Well," Greg licked a finger and swirled the blood around his chest as it began to dry on him. "You're not the first to tell me that. When I get that speech, it's always from someone who's trussed up and begging. And, no, you haven't been reported missing, I've got people waiting for that call. I make good use of my resources."

Becoming bored with their conversation, he turned the topic. "So, tell me about you and Mark, and that girl," he said. "Did that have anything to do with your cousin, Alex?"

Cory hesitated, and Greg noticed the red tint that crept across Cory's cheekbones, particularly the way his light eyes glanced almost nervously toward the curtain. "Oho," Greg said, softly. "Of course. She doesn't know, why would she?"

"It's not what it looks like," Cory replied, grimly.

"Hah!" Greg gave a shout of laughter, slapping his knee. "That's exactly what I said when I got sprung questioning a police-informant. Ironic, right? Next thing, I had a second body to get rid of.

"Anyway, your own file was pretty buried, yet Alex has a record longer than my dick, and he's a free man. Which means you know as well as I do, that money can get you out of any fix, if you have enough of it. You and Mark must be loaded."

Cory didn't respond. But a sharp breath hissed through his grit teeth as Greg unexpectedly jabbed a finger into the centre of one of the crosses on Cory's chest. "No comment? I'll get blood out of this stone. You seem like a pretty straight guy, which interests me," Greg murmured, dark eyes narrowing as he pressed harder, causing more blood to drip brightly over his finger and down Cory's abs.

Perking up at the sight of fresh blood, Greg's thoughts switched back to Katie. "Maybe you're a little unique," he smiled coldly, pondering Cory's supreme control over his emotions, "but when I really get down to business, you're all the same." His soulless eyes rested on the black bag. "I look forward to finding out. But I can't have any real fun with you, until I'm done with her."

"If you touch her again," Cory promised quietly, "I'll kill you."

"Well, big guy," Greg answered his threat, unimpressed, "unless you can manage to kill me in the next few minutes, you're just full of bullshit bravado. When I'm done busting a nut, we'll talk again. Maybe I'll show you some of my toys." Replacing the tape across Cory's mouth, Greg dusted off his hands and went to torment Katie.

When Greg approached her, Katie didn't shrink away, but glared up at him with a fierce, burning hatred. Clearly overhearing their conversation, she was somewhat comforted that Cory was alive and evidently healthy enough to talk back in her defence. But she was also disconcertedly curious about what Greg had seen on Cory's file.

As his cruel eyes locked with hers, he smiled. "That's more like it," he approved, crouching down in front of her, tracing a finger down her cheek, scooping up a streak of his cum and forcing it into her mouth. "Suck."

Katie cooperatively sucked his finger, tasting Cory's blood on it, glowering at Greg with disgust as he mockingly wiggled it around her mouth. She had no illusions that spending time with Greg would be pleasant, but the reality of the experience was far worse than she could have imagined. When he was done, he withdrew his finger and put it in his own mouth, chuckling at the look of horrified surprise on her face.

"So, are you ready to be ass-fucked?" he asked, leaning forward and extending his tongue towards her tauntingly. Katie's wrists jerked against the cuffs as he suddenly grabbed her throat and forced his lips over hers, jabbing his tongue into her mouth, not caring that his cum was all over her face. Trembling with revulsion under his animalistic French kiss, Katie would have much preferred he punched her in the face. Pulling back, he slid his hand from her throat, up to her jaw and pressed down. "Open wide," he ordered, and when she complied, he spat into her mouth.

"That's a head-start. Because I'm guessing you want to get my dick wet first, huh? I'd give it a real good slobbering if I were you," he advised, unlocking her hands and standing. Stepping over her towards the bed, he casually grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her up onto the old mattress with him.

"Look at us in bed together, like newly-weds," Greg joked, laying back and using his hold on her hair to direct her on all fours, face in his crotch. "Consider this practice for your honeymoon. A word of advice, when Dom tells you about it, you'd better respond enthusiastically." He shifted backwards until he was sitting up against the metal bed-frame, in a better position to watch her.

"Now, ask me if you can suck my dick," he ordered, forcing her head closer to his groin.

"Can I suck your dick?" Katie said mechanically, looking at him as though he were a putrid, green slug under her shoe.

"No, no," Greg chided lightly, "ask nicely." A horrible smile spread across his face as he saw her jaw clench. This was so much better. Now that the shock had worn off, she was becoming desensitised to the abuse and starting to show her hate. He enjoyed punishing for disobedience, much more than for incompetence. Soon he'd get a rise out of her, and have an excuse to cut Cory again.

"Greg, may I please suck your dick?" Katie asked with icy politeness.

"I suppose, since you ask so nicely," Greg grinned mockingly as her stunning eyes flashed jade at him. As she took his hardening cock out of his trousers, he halted her with his palm against her forehead.

"Who's your master?" Greg tested her, his dark eyes alight with malicious lust.

Katie paused, eyes widening as she struggled to get it right. If she answered 'Greg' instead of 'Dom', Cory might get cut since Greg was supposedly teaching her to submit to Dom. Then again, the same principle could be applied vice versa - Greg was in control now, and he was evidently savouring it.

"Whoever you want it to be," she answered carefully, holding her breath. It was the only way to technically indicate either Greg or Dom, or both.

"Clever girl," Greg nodded, disappointed she figured out his trick question. He tilted his head thoughtfully.

"What are you going to say when Dom tells you you're engaged?" he goaded, his eyes dancing as he enjoyed her shaking inner-turmoil, watching her visibly fight to control her temper. The wildcat was beginning to surface, and he felt his heart quicken with the thrill of it.

Katie came excruciatingly close to exploding in a screaming tirade at Greg, and spitting out every insulting thing about Dom that she could think of. Instead, she drew a very long, shaky breath, and put her game face on. There was Cory to think of.

"I will tell him how happy that makes me," she snarled.

"Are you sure?" Greg questioned mildly, tilting his head. "You don't sound happy. We'll have to work on that, won't we? Start sucking." He smugly released her forehead and watched her cute, pink mouth stretch around his throbbing cock. After enjoying her attentions for a few slow minutes, he pushed her head off him.

"Turn around," he said roughly, his arousal building, "get into sixty-nine."

Katie awkwardly clambered over him and nervously backed up until her knees were on either side of his waist, her pussy facing him.

"Continue," Greg commanded, and Katie heard him spit on his fingers. She almost bit down on his cock in surprise when he squeezed a finger into her ass.

"Cory's very, very lucky you reined in that bite," Greg told her, when he felt her mouth contract around him in shock. Spitting again, he forced two fingers inside her ass and began to move them in and out.

"I'm doing you a favour, really," he said thickly, loving the feel of her warm mouth suctioning him while he slowly finger-fucked her ass, occasionally brushing this thumb over her pussy, reddened from his fucking. He was slightly hypnotised, alternating his cold-blooded gaze between his fingers entering her ass, and his cock disappearing into her mouth. With his other hand he reached under and squeezed her breast, cruelly pinching her nipple until she moaned pleadingly around his cock.

Greg was in heaven. He had a mild fixation on Katie, catering to the pure psychological cliché that you always want what you can't have. And for a long year it had been Greg's understanding that he could never have Katie. A little thrill passed through him, thinking about the random luck of his current arrangement with Dom. Up until recently, she had been the prey that got away. And now, though ultimately she belonged to Dom, he was totally owning her. Removing his fingers from her ass, he slid both hands over her buttocks and spread her ass cheeks.

"Nice," he whispered, spitting on her ass. Pushing on her perfectly rounded cheeks with his hands, he forced her to crawl forward on the bed, giving him room to raise onto his knees behind her. Katie flinched as he sharply slapped her bare behind.

"This might not be as fun as before," Greg warned her, and Katie couldn't suppress a shriek as he pushed into her half an inch. He heard Cory growl angrily, fighting his restraints on the other side of the curtain.

"Oh, God, no! Stop! Please!" Katie begged, forgetting her resolve to give off an impression of stoic hostility. She arched her back to cope with the unwelcome intrusion, which only turned Greg on more.

"Come on, Katie," he replied scornfully as she began to cry again, "stop being such a baby. This is only the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. It won't hurt so much if you relax. But that's your call."

Like a woman in labour, Katie hyperventilated as she felt him enter where no man had ever been. Luckily for her, Dom was never interested in anal, though right now she felt far from lucky as she felt a burning ache spread through her ass.

"This here, is the real lesson," Greg said hoarsely, his expression a little strained as he felt the pressure of her exquisite tightness almost strangling his hard cock. "This is the teachable moment. What you take to memory, whenever you consider talking back to Dom. Oh, fuck, you're tight, Katie," he exhaled, firmly gripping her smooth ass-cheeks and spreading them as he watched her stretch around him, "please talk back to him."

Still on one knee, he stepped the other leg up, readying to go deeper. As he began to squeeze in a third inch, he froze as a sharp 'bleep' sounded from the his trousers, echoing throughout the dim room.

"Fuuuuck!" he groaned, whacking Katie's buttock in frustration, making her cry out and clench around him. Still inside her, he straightened up and exasperatedly glanced down at his watch. "Are you kidding me? Worst timing ever," he panted, slowly pulling out, sadistically smiling as Katie moaned her relief.

Katie remained on all fours, still sobbing, as Greg climbed off the bed, frowning heavily at his watch. "Your man is way too early," he noted with irritation. "I expected at least two ass-fucks before he found us. Who the fuck is this guy, Scooby-Doo?"

Angrily Greg raked a hand through his blonde hair and tugged up his trousers. He stepped forward and pulled on Katie's wrist and she collapsed onto her front, again cuffed to the bed. Lying curled on her side, Katie watched as he went into the dark, and reappeared holding what looked like a sniper-rifle. He squinted down at his other hand, manoeuvring different coloured darts around his palm with this thumb. Shrugging he dropped all of them into his pocket. Again visiting Cory's side of the curtain, he ripped the tape from his mouth.

"How?" Greg demanded.

Cory gazed back fiercely, not trusting himself to speak. After a tense moment, Greg looked impatiently at his watch.

"I don't have time for this shit," he snapped, leaving Cory and entering Katie's line of sight.

After staring at the floor quietly, Greg raised his head and glared at Katie with a frightening intensity. The circumstances were so unique, and it'd been a while since he'd had such a refreshingly fantastic time. He felt a deep resentment, as though she had magically conjured up the interruption to stop him from brutalising her.

Katie screamed and even Cory jumped in surprise as he heard a loud crash. Greg had viciously kicked a small wooden crate, and it flew across the room, smashing against the wall and causing some of the set-up to collapse, allowing light to enter from the side of the shack, significantly brightening the room.

"This is not what I fucking wanted!" Greg roared. In a huff he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen. Then he swung the gun over his shoulder and stamped out of the shed, swearing.

Cory blinked at the newly lightened room, not giving a second glance to the blood all over him, and winced as he stretched his chest upwards, straining to get a better look at the cuffs around his hands. Just about ready to settle back with disappointment, his tawny eyes widened, blinking as they focused, travelling along the railing and coming to rest on one of the bed-screws, seemingly taller than the one on the other side.

"Thank you, God," he whispered.

*****

On one knee between a clump of trees, Greg peered down the magnifier, scanning the area where the censor was triggered. Even though his cock was still hard, after his short outburst Greg had himself under control, fully focused on snaring Mark. He had deliberately left tracks on the horse-trail, but severely underestimated the time it would take Mark to find him. He still couldn't understand how his timing had gone awry, but he intended to find out.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are..." he breathed, ignoring the mosquito buzzing around the blood on his bare chest, watching for movement. "Huh," Greg said, raising his head for a bemused second, before squinting back down through the glass. He'd expected to see Mark, not an older man searching through the wood with a map in his hand. Greg bared his teeth in a predatory grin as he spotted Mark several paces behind the man.

"So, that explains it," he muttered, taking his eyes from the glass and quickly swapping the dart loaded into the gun with another. "Sorry old guy," he grinned, taking aim.

"Ooof!" Marco gasped, tripping forward as the dart hit. Mark managed to grasp the back of Marco's shirt before he hit the ground, easing his fall.

"What is it? Marco, are you alright?" Mark demanded, turning him over, watching as Marco's eyes widened and his eyes rolled back. "Marco!" he exclaimed, bending over him, sharply tapping his cheek, feeling his pulse. Marco was dead.

"Shit!" Mark whispered, plucking the purple dart from Marco's neck, right before he felt an agonising sting in his shoulder. Without looking down, he quickly pulled out the blue dart. "Fuck," he mumbled, collapsing on top of Marco's body.

Ten minutes later, Greg stood over their still forms, and leisurely lit a cigarette. With his boot, he pushed on Mark's shoulder, rolling him off Marco and onto his back.

"Nice to meet you, Mark," Greg smiled at the unconscious man, bending to collect his colour-coded darts. Purple was a quick death, blue was for healthy strong men of Cory and Mark's size, and green was almost exclusively for light women, except on the rare occasions he'd captured very effeminate men. Orange was in-between - they sometimes subdued very large, overweight men and sometimes they killed them, he hadn't yet perfected that dosage.

Thinking about his different drugs for various categories of people, Greg suddenly jerked upright, remembering that in his excitement with Katie and the shock of Mark's early arrival, his routine had been distracted. It didn't matter how much of an upper-hand he had - he never, ever, left a victim unattended without drugging them first and leaving them in the dark. Frustrated over his disrupted plans, he had completely forgotten to drug Cory and Katie before leaving. Even worse, his little tantrum had given them light to better view their surroundings. That they were secured to the beds with handcuffs was not good enough, Greg was well aware of how resourceful people could be in their fight for survival. He immediately dropped his cigarette and ground it out with his heel, before hurriedly bending over to cuff Mark's wrists.